Magician's Waltz
by theladyofthedarkcastle
Summary: prompt: When young Baelfire loses consciousness due to a high fever, the spinner Rumplestiltskin is at a loss what to do. He has no money to pay for medicine. And no one who wants to buy his wares. As he breaks down outside his house, he encounters a beautiful woman wearing what appears to be a shawl with snakeskin patterns.
1. Family

"Bye Papa!" Baelfire yelled as he careened down the path, barely glancing over his shoulder at his father. He ran with the haphazard joy of a boy allowed to walk himself to a friend's house for the very first time.

Rumplestiltskin watched his son, his pride and joy, his only reason for living if he was being honest, get smaller and smaller against the horizon. He sagged against the doorframe to their small home. When had Bae gotten so big, he wondered. His eyes slipped shut as he contemplated the past three years.

Milah had finally abandoned them, choosing a life of piracy over her family. A flash of anger stole through Rumplestiltskin's heart before he reminded himself to quench it with understanding. He couldn't give Milah anything she wanted, he could barely give Bae anything. As angry as he was that his boy had to grow up without a mother, he couldn't begrudge Milah attempting to find happiness.

It had taken Rumplestiltskin many years, almost as many as Milah had been gone, to master the ability to quench the anger inside instead of acting on it. Now, with Bae getting older and wanting to go off by himself, the anger was creeping back into his life. Rumplestiltskin knew that eventually Bae would leave to lead his own life and his only partner then would be the cold anger, simmering just out of reach.

With Baelfire completely out of sight, Rumplestiltskin turned back towards the small hut he and Bae called home. The huts for people of his class weren't the nicest in their small village, but they certainly weren't desolate. There was a roof over their head and a hearth with a fire. He kept a clean house, needing the space for his wheel and supplies, but Bae being a seven year old boy wasn't making things any easier.

Heaving a heavy sigh from his lungs felt like more work than dragging Bae's mat away from its place beside the hearth. The hut was small enough to be warm but Rumplestiltskin wasn't about to take any chances of Bae falling ill. He could barely spin enough to put food in their mouths, if Bae fell ill, there wouldn't be any hope of calling a doctor. There wouldn't be any hope.

Rumplestiltskin was past hoping for much in his life. Once Milah was gone, he knew nothing special would ever come for him again. Bae, however, was still in the place in his life were everything was hope. It astonished Rumple to see how Bae saw the world. There wasn't anything bad yet. Everyone had a chance to be redeemed. Even if it killed him, he would do anything he could to protect that feeling in his boy.

With Bae's mats finally cleared out of the way, and their two breakfast dishes in the washing bucket, Rumple turned towards his beloved spinning wheel, tucked away in the corner to avoid Bae's playtime. He tugged the wheel towards the middle of the room, taking advantage of the soft light that was flittering in through a crack in their roof. That crack would cause much pain during the rainy months and even more so when the snow came, but for now, it brought just enough cheer into the room.

With the wheel in place, Rumple picked his way over to the shelves he had built into one of the far walls and grabbed his spinning basket. The tattered basket was overflowing with bits of used string and fluffy balls of wool waiting to be spun. Rumple dragged his hand over his face as his eyes took in exactly what his basket was offering him to work with. Times were tough. More and more people were using every possible coin they could get their hands on for necessities like food. There wasn't time for new clothes and frivolous ribbons.

Most of the wares that had been selling as of late were the tougher ropes and hearty twine, staples of a spinners inventory. The only downside to catering to the people of the village was that it took all the enjoyment out of his work. Rumple enjoyed finding the perfect berries and flowers to crush into dyes to make iridescent colors for his ribbons. He enjoyed finding the beauty in things that weren't often considered beautiful.

A cough, or perhaps a feeling, was trapped in the space between Rumple's heart and lungs. He hated his life. He hated feeling trapped by the very things that allowed them to live. If he didn't spend his entire day creating the damned rope and twine, he wouldn't have anything to hope to trade for food, and Bae would go hungry.

If there was one mantra Rumplestiltskin lived wholeheartedly by, it was that Bae must not go hungry. Ever.

Swallowing the lump, Rumple picked up the first ball of wool to begin separating the fibers.

It was going to be a long day.

Rumplestiltskin had managed to spin a respectable amount of material into a small coil of hearty rope and four smaller spools of twine. It definitely wasn't a lot, by any means, but, if he was lucky, the townspeople would take pity on Bae and purchase something. They couldn't argue that what he was selling wasn't useful.

Rumple glanced up, surprised at how dark his hut had gotten. The fire in the hearth had dwindled to mere glowing embers. Bae had been given the chore of collecting more logs for the fire a year ago and been ecstatic with the burgeoning responsibility. Since then, Rumple had been mindful of giving his boy enough to feel useful in his world.

Rumple glanced up towards the faithful crack in the roof. It was definitely evening. Not so dark as to be considered night, but the sun had definitely already descended for the evening. Rumple glanced up towards the door. He had told Bae to be home no later than sunset.

A slice of fear stole through Rumple's chest. Bae was a good boy. If he wasn't home already, he was on his way. Rumple kept repeating the words, he was coming, in his head as he pushed himself up off the small stool with help of his walking stick.

The fact that he'd spent his day in the presence of only his creaking spinning wheel made itself known in the form of his creaking body. Rumplestiltskin knew he wasn't a young man, but it was moments like these that made him truly feel old.

The hut was so small he was able to cross to the front door in a matter of steps. Grasping the rope he'd attached to the wood to form some sort of handle, he wrenched the door open. He was instantly assaulted with the night. The summer was still stubbornly holding on and sending its warm breeze through the lands they called home. Rumple could smell the village tavern, a thick smell part meat, part ale, and above that, the pale smell of wildflowers.

He cast his eyes towards the horizon eagerly searching for Bae's jaunting form. The sun had slipped below the hills leaving orange and indigo fighting for supremacy. Where was Bae? He stood as tense minute after minute passed. Bae knew he was waiting for him. He had trusted Bae to go see Morriane and come home. His boy wouldn't leave him. He'd come home.

Rumplestiltskin stood against his threshold with his small hut behind and the entire world in front and waited for the only family he had to come home.


	2. Fate

The indigo in the sky had fully won against the softening orange and a stiff breeze promising fall had begun to blow from the north. Rumplestiltskin stood in the same place he had for the past twenty minutes. Bae was still no where to be found.

Rumple glanced back inside towards his darkening hovel. Maybe if he made himself busy he could hasten the return of his son.

He dragged his spinning wheel back into its corner. Work would haunt him through the night as it always did, he would never spin enough.

He picked his basket up off the floor, making sure the finished rope and twine were safe in the bottom, perhaps tomorrow he'd go to market and try and sell something. He placed the basket back on it's shelf, tucked away from prying hands.

Floor cleared, Rumple looked around, it was getting dusty. He heaved a sigh and glanced towards the broom in the corner. Sweeping was hell on his leg, but the pain would be a welcome distraction. Rumple glanced towards the door. He could always go look for Bae, but he wanted so much to trust him. He glanced back towards the broom, one pass wouldn't kill him.

He propped his cane against the lone chair, its match had been chopped for kindling two winters ago, and reached out for the broom. His finger had just brushed the well worn handle when there was a bang against the door.

Rumplestiltskin started, grabbing his walking stick in one fell swoop. "Bae?!" He called. The noise sounded again, as rough as a horse's hoofbeats. He took a stuttering step towards the door as it crashed open, spilling his seven year old son, almost vibrating in his excitement.

"Papa! Papa! Papa, guess what?!" Bae exclaimed. He hopped lightly from foot to foot unable to stand completely still, too full of his grand announcement.

"Bae!" Rumplestiltskin gasps, struggling across the room. "Bae, you were supposed to be home hours ago!" Rumplestiltskin reached where his son had stopped and threw his arms around him, half wanting to squeeze the life out of him for putting him through this terror, half wanting to merely make sure he was really there. "Bae, you can't scare me like that."

"Sorry Papa!" Bae squirmed in Rumple's arms, trying to put enough distance between them to allow maximum effect for delivering the news. "Papa, listen! There's someone new staying in the village!"

"Someone…new?" Rumplestiltskin muttered. People didn't just show up to their village. They were extremely poor, they didn't even have a minor lord living in the vicinity. No one had any reason to seek them out. "Is it a tradesman? Someone looking to sell to us?"

The mirth in Bae's eyes grew exponentially as he took an obviously planned dramatic pause. "It's a magician!" He exclaimed, holding one arm up in a triumphant pose as he waited for his father to reward him with a reaction.

Rumplestiltskin froze, terror leaching into every pore. "A magician, Bae?"

Bae nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He clearly had more to tell but Rumplestiltskin was not going to stand by and let his son anywhere near such a terrible creature.

"Bae, I don't want you to go into town anymore until the magician leaves. I don't want you anywhere near a person that is involved with that…that awful craft."

It pained Rumple to watch his son's face crumple before his eyes. Rumple knew he was crushing Bae's excitement now, but it would be more than worth it if it meant he wouldn't go anywhere near this magician figure.

Rumplestiltskin didn't know much about magic, he was a spinner, but what he did know, wasn't good. Magic had stopped the ogres a few years before Bae was born, but at the cost of a good harvest. The amount of people that had been lost to the famine made many wish for the ogres to return. There was always a cost with magic and Rumple would die before he'd let any of that cost fall on Bae.

It was easy to try and shield his son, but Rumplestiltskin wasn't completely stupid. He knew that he also had to avoid magic for if any cost fell on himself, it could, by proximity, fall on Bae. Bae had to be protected at all costs.

Rumple glanced up to see Bae staring intently at his well worn shoes, dragging one toe back and forth across the floor. His small body is hunched as though he can't believe his father wouldn't support his excitement.

"Ah, son," Rumple began, "magicians are dangerous, dangerous people. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you because you got tangled up in one of those."

Bae glanced up and Rumplestiltskin was alarmed to see tears shining in his brown eyes. "How would you even know! You haven't met this one, maybe this one's nice! He said I was destined for great things!" Anger and passion flashed through Bae's eyes at his declaration. Bae had inherited some of Milah's fire, that was certain.

"Him?! You talked to him, Bae? You were supposed to be with Morriane!" Rumplestiltskin sputtered. He'd never been able to manage to yell at Bae, but the anger overwhelming him was pushing him towards new places. Bae had no idea what he was dealing with.

"Morriane was with me!" Bae hollered, losing the short hold any seven year old would have on their anger. "She said it'd be fun to have our fortunes read! We went and talked to the Magician and he said I had great things in my future, that'd I'd be a strong man!"

With his speech delivered, he spun on his heel and wretched the front door open once more before stomping out into the night.

Rumplestiltskin paled, "Bae!" He yelled, trying to get his son to turn around. "Bae, come back! Son, you don't have to run!"

He was speaking to air.

Rumple slouched against the door frame to his little hut. Bae wanted to be strong, he wanted to be the kind of man others looked up to.

He didn't want to end up like his father.

Rumplestiltskin knew of his reputation. He knew exactly what people thought of his actions during the Ogres War and it was reflected in how they treated him to this day. Rumple had tried so hard to prevent Bae from receiving any undue negativity, but he knew he couldn't stop all the whispers.

Rumple knew he should go after Bae, try and stop him from doing something irrational, protect him from…what? Rumple sighed. Bae was still a child. He needed to be protected.

Rumple turned towards the nailed he'd into the wall to function as a hook and pulled down his threadbare coat. It was a little worse for wear, sure, but if there was one thing Rumplestiltskin knew how to do, it was lengthen the lift of fabric even a little. Bae's coat was hanging on the peg next to Rumple's, the fabric in similar well worn condition, though the garment was quite small overall. Bae had grown so much in the past year. He was growing so quickly. Rumple knew he'd have to bargain most of his goods in order to acquire enough fabric to lengthen Bae's coat for the upcoming cold.

Rumple stretched his hand out, brushing over the fabric softly. His boy. His boy just wanted to be brave, wanted to see the world. Rumple wondered if his mother had any influence on Bae's thinking, even though she'd left when he was still a babe. The coat caught against the hook, a faint ripping sound splitting the air. Reaching his hand up, Rumple rectified the issue and draped Bae's cloak over his arm.

The night had definitely settled over their land as the door was latched behind him. A breeze blowing from the north held promise of snow and ice, possibly soon. It would be much better when Bae was home where he belonged, when he was safe.

There was no point in fretting about the future, the now could be salvaged, he could bring his boy home.

Rumple stepped off the porch, planting the cane into the hardening dirt. Bae had left in such a rush that his footprints where pressed deeply into the ground. They'd be fairly easy to follow, even for such a novice tracker like Rumplestiltskin himself. The prints were far enough apart leading away from the cottage that Rumple knew Bae had been running.

A shiver ghosted through his small frame. He wasn't built for this, built for traipsing around after a wayward son. Even this was too much adventure. One foot in front of the other and soon enough Bae would be home.

Bae's steps were twisting through the dirt path that led away from their cottage and pointed firmly towards the middle of town. Great. Not only was he stuck out in the cold, his son was in the cold, possibly in danger or being exposed to sickness, but now he'd have to deal with other people.

Rumplestiltskin was a good father. He knew he was a coward, but at the end of the day, he loved his boy. That's what mattered right? Why didn't everyone else realize this? Just because he couldn't hunt or fight didn't mean he was worthless. He had to simply live in his place. Rumple knew what his place was, no one would let him forget it.

Dark thoughts wouldn't reveal Bae, it would only hinder things.

A crowd had gathered around something in the middle of town. Rumple scanned through the people gathered, eyes straining for any glimpse of his boy's ruffled hair. The entire village seemed to be standing in the small space usually reserved for weddings and the occasional feast or holiday.

Someone had erected the small wooden box that was used when a herald of the King came to make announcements and a practically giant man was perched atop it. He was saying something to the crowd, gesturing wildly.

Rumple pushed through the line of people closest to him. A terrible feeling had settled into his stomach. Whatever was going on here, it wasn't something good. The man's voice drifted over him, causing the crowd to push and pull as though it were a living entity itself.

He didn't know if he should call out Bae's name and risk drawing attention to himself or remain anonymous and merely continue searching. He gently parted two people he recognized as the town's baker and his wife. The wife shot him a look full of malice before stepping out of the way. The man on the box was still speaking at much too great a volume, but his words were finally registering.

"All right fair people of this fine village. Does anyone wish to step on up and attempt to stand next to my beautiful self? Anyone daring enough to try their hand in magic?"

The crowd roared, the sound completely out of place as it bounced against the crumbling buildings. Rumple froze, dread ripping through his soul, this village was poor, out of the way, miles from anywhere important. How had magic managed to sing its claws into this place?

Pushing between people, he moved again taking full advantage of the fact that everyone was distracted by the man.

The man's hands were now glowing a most sickly green. Magic didn't even look good, why wouldn't anyone go near it?

The crowd was hollering up all different names, their own or a reluctant friend to try and draw the gaze of the man towards them. Finally, the man thrust his hand out towards the front line of people, just off to his left.

"You boy! You'll do quite nicely." He sneered. Or it looked like a sneer, Rumple figured.

Rumple pushed himself up as far as he could on his meager cane. "No." He exhaled, eyes quite unable to grasp what was happening right in front of him.

Bae's small, fluffy head began to rise above the crowd as he ascended the steps to where the Magician stood. The higher Bae climbed, the wider his eyes grew. This couldn't happen, Rumple couldn't just stand here and let his boy throw himself into the path of danger. He threw himself between the people closest to him, not really caring that they indignantly huffed at him, he had to get to Bae.

"Well well," the large Magician continued, "What's your name, son?"

He's my son, Rumple thought angrily, as he heard Bae's small voice state his name. He'd pushed through another three lines of people but was still layers away from the stage. The entire village had crowded into this place, possibly from the neighboring village too. He pushed forward, the need to get to Bae, to place himself between him and the dangerous liar overwhelmed him.

"Well Baelfire," the man droned, a eerie gleam in his eye, "take my hand and we can begin."

"Bae, no! Don't!" Rumplestiltskin screeched, frantically clawing at the people closest to him, trying to get them to move. "Stay away from him!"

Bae's gaze flicked up, searching through the crowd, he had to have heard his father's yelling. He reached his small hand towards the larger, glowing one, pausing ever so slightly.

"Bae! Stop!"

Bae's eyes flicked once more then returned to the Magician's as his small hand made contact. The effect was almost immediate, Bae's entire body began to emit the same sickly green glow that man's hand had.

"Baelfire!" Rumplestiltskin screamed, as the last person standing between him and the stage stepped out of the way. Rumple clamored up the stairs as the crowd began to laugh, a low rolling sound that gathered as it reached the front.

Rumple staggered over to Bae, wrenching him away from the man, breaking the connection. Bae sagged weakly into his father's arms, causing Rumple to collapse under his slight weight, his son cradled safely.

The Magician loomed over the pair of them and Rumple squeezed his eyes shut, focusing solely on Bae, the bad man could fall off the stage for all he cared. "What did you do to my son?" He stuttered, hating how shaky his voice sounded.

A low laugh greeted Rumple's ears. He opened his eyes. The Magician had straightened and was watching them, a curious look in his eyes, not anger per say, more malice.

Glancing down at Bae's form, the Magician took in Rumple with another laugh. Rumple glanced down as well and was dismayed to find Bae glowing even more strongly.

"What have you done to him!" He exclaimed, pushing strength into his voice, trying to counter the fear sitting in his chest and the murmur of the crowd, "Fix him!"

The Magician smiled, "Oh, it's much too late for that."


End file.
